


Hot Springs

by TuppingLiberty



Series: TLIb AU August 2018 [9]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Cinderella Yuuri, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Prince Victor, Yuuri is not a child but it's his stepfather that abuses him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 11:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15629478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: AU August Day 9: Prince Victor must marry as per a Royal Compact with his people, if he wants to become king. Yuuri wants to escape his awful, abusive household. Maybe they can work something out?AU Yeah August first came from this blog: https://lnc2.tumblr.com/post/174925809860/au-yeah-august. I decided to make my own calendar of prompts using this wonderful blog post: http://perfectlyrose.tumblr.com/post/101118660910/au-prompts-masterlist-of-lists. I randomized the lists, then pulled a prompt from each list for 31 days.





	Hot Springs

**Author's Note:**

> Today’s prompt is from the list: http://itsclydebitches.tumblr.com/post/119655584055/reverse-fairy-tales The prompt is: A princess is told by her father that she must marry and a ball is planned to find her a husband. Angry and panicking, she flees to the edge of her kingdom where she finds a young man, living with two brothers and an abusive stepfather. These fast friends hatch a scheme: the princess will take one of the man’s shoes, claim it belong to her one true love, and send her father on a fool’s errand to find the ‘prince’ to which it belongs. In return she will help the man escape his family, if he wishes, at least for one night - at the ball. But when they dance together, more than friendship might form…
> 
>  
> 
> I took some liberties with the prompt but the bones of it are there. :)

It could be worse, Victor supposes. Marginally, but yes, it could be worse. His father could be forcing him to marry a _woman._ Forcing him to carry on the _genetic_ claim to the throne, not just in name only.

Victor had hoped that being gay would mean he’d get to skip all the horrible matchmaking and arranged marriage nonsense, since he won’t be bringing an heir of Nikiforov blood to the table. That maybe it would mean he will get to marry for love instead of power, alliances, and so forth.

So far, he’s managed to convince his father to hold off, to let him pick, but lately Father has been getting impatient. Mentioning something about retirement, and wanting to hand the reins - the reign - over to Victor.

That’s fine with Victor; he’s ready to lead, he’s been preparing for it his entire life. He’s less ready, less willing, about the supposed marriage requirement written into the royal charter with the people. His people are such a _romantic_ lot, believing that marriage tempers the monarch, keeps them from becoming a tyrant.

All of this, of course, is what Father has been recapping with him over breakfast for the last twenty minutes, and so Victor has mostly been staring out the window, thinking about how he needs to check on the plans for the summer festival and speak to Father’s foreign ministers.

“And so I’ve told Mila to prepare the engagement ball for the summer festival.”

Victor snaps back into the conversation. “Who’s getting married?” he asks, dread filling his stomach.

Father rolls his eyes. “You are, Victor. I’ve invited all of the most eligible bachelors from our neighboring countries, very lovely men, all very suitable for your husband, to rule at your side.”

 _“At my side?”_ Victor mutters under his breath, wrinkling his nose at the idea, as if he’s not perfectly capable of ruling by himself. “What if no one is suitable?” he asks, more loudly.

“Someone _will be_ suitable, Victor.”

The firmness of Father’s voice is clear.

It’s come to this. He can no longer avoid it.

Frustration boiling over, he pushes back from the table and tosses his napkin down.

“Victor, it’s time you grew up-” Father stands too, his fingers steepling on the table. He looks old, and tired, and angry, and Victor can’t help the guilt that gnaws at him.

Except Victor feels old and tired and angry too, pushed by the unfairness of his father’s accusation when he’s practically been running the kingdom behind the scenes for years. He _deserves_ love.

Doesn’t he?

“I’m going riding,” he blurts out, turning on his heel.

\------

One of the things Victor loves most about Makkachin is the standard poodle’s ability to keep up with Victor when he’s out riding on Midnight. The dog and the horse get along like best friends, which makes things easier for Victor, because when Victor gets like this, all he wants is to have his favorite companion with him.

He rides without destination for awhile, but inevitably, he leads his small party to one of their favorite places in the royal forest, the hot springs.

He’s settled in the water, letting himself relax, trying to get the wrinkles in his forehead to go away despite his stress, when he - or more precisely, Makkachin - hears someone approach.

There are many other hot springs, closer to town, that his people use. He had thought he was the only person that knew about this one. He drifts over closer to where he left his sword, standing and holding it out to defend himself.

He probably looks ridiculous, naked and dripping and holding the sword in ready position. It would be a supremely ridiculous way to be assassinated.

Makkachin comes bounding in with the stranger, who’s talking to the dog in a small voice. Victor can’t make out everything, but he hears, “Are you lost, spirit?”

It’s a kind voice, and Makkachin has never been much of a guard dog anyway, so Victor supposes he can forgive his pet for befriending the stranger.

When the stranger finally steps into the clearing and sees Victor, he gasps, dropping his towel and clutching his loose robe better around his body. Then he gasps again, and drops to his knees in a show of deference. “Prince Victor, forgive me,” he murmurs, even as Makkachin, the adorable traitor, licks the stranger’s face and makes him squirm against a smile.

Victor bows his head in acknowledgement. “May I have your name?”

The stranger looks up, then immediately away, a blush staining his cheeks. Victor’s never been shy about his body. “I am Yuuri, your highness.” The man stays on his knees, looking anywhere but Victor’s direction.

He hardly seems a threat, so Victor sets his sword down again and eases back into the water. “Please, Yuuri, make yourself comfortable. I’m not your prince here, just someone enjoying the water, like you’ve come to do.”

He tries to give Yuuri some privacy to make a decision, but his eyes keep lingering on the man’s delightly round face, though his cheeks look gaunt and sunken. And when Yuuri eases his robe off - he’s wearing some type of shorts underneath - and turns away from Victor to step into the pool, Victor can see a series of hand-shaped bruises along his back.

Victor bites down on his cheek, _hard,_ to stop himself from inquiring, and focuses instead on Yuuri’s rosy face and the cute way his glasses fog up in the steam from the hot springs.

Yuuri laughs, suddenly, and flushes even harder, biting his lip.

“What?” Victor asks.

“I just - I’m in the hot springs with _Prince Victor._ If my family saw this, they would - well. The absurdity of it.” Yuuri shakes his head. “Katsuki Yuuri in the same place as Prince Victor. My stepfather would probably collapse from shock.”

“This is my favorite place in the forest,” Victor murmurs, smiling a little at the sound of Yuuri’s incredulity.

“Mine too. I try to come here as often as I can, which is really only when my stepfather and stepbrothers are away for extended periods of time. I find peace here.”

Victor smiles. “That’s lovely.”

His leg drifts over toward Yuuri, but he scoots away before they can make contact. Something about the water, or maybe Yuuri, is calming, and Victor doesn’t want to scare him away.

“I never dreamed I would find the prince here, though,” Yuuri says with a small, embarrassed laugh.

“I do tend to pop up in random places. I like to think it keeps people guessing.”

“It can’t be entirely safe.”

Victor nods at his sword. “I’m trained.”

“Oh, I know! I’ve seen you spar! You’re lovely!” Once again, Yuuri seems embarrassed by his outburst. “I mean-”

“I’d love the compliment, please don’t take it away.”

Yuuri acquiesces with a small nod. “Sometimes I pretend I can fence as well as you. I don’t have the equipment though; I normally just end up using a fireplace poker.”

“I think everyone starts with a fireplace poker, if their mama isn’t there to yell at them to stop, that is.” Victor grins, but can’t help wondering what it would be like to spar the man beside him.

Yuuri, though, looks away. “My mother died, unfortunately.”

“I’m so sorry, Yuuri.” He knows that pain, having lost the Queen a decade ago, when he’d been younger, and more tender.

Yuuri nods in acknowledgement. “Thank you, your high- Victor.”

They fall into an easy conversation, though it comes in fits and starts as they relax in the water. Victor finds he enjoys seeing what he can do to bring that blush to Yuuri’s cheeks, or that small smile he can offer, and in the meantime, Yuuri seems to be enjoying himself as well. Victor’s fingers and toes have gone full-prune by the time they lapse into silence again, enjoying the stillness of the forest.

Yuuri’s voice is quiet, small, when he talks again. “It’s been my dream-” Yuuri looks away, his blush deepening.

“What, _kotenok?_ What’s your dream?” The endearment slips out before Victor can put a stop to it.

“It would be a lovely place for an onsen,” Yuuri whispers, nodding to the massive trees that surround them.

“You don’t think people would ruin the beauty?”

“Not at _my_ onsen,” Yuuri says with a fierce smile. “My onsen would be for the children in the town who’ve never been to one. Children who’ve never been treated like roya- I mean. Um.”

Victor smiles, waving it away. “That sounds lovely. And maybe something the palace could throw some weight behind, if, somehow, you gained the finance minister’s ear. Somehow.” He offers a wink, pleased when Yuuri blushes again.

They’re silent for a moment, and Victor lets his head rest against the side of the pool when Yuuri does the same. The heat has made him loose, accepting. Maybe his future husband will enjoy going riding with him, will want to come out to the hot spring with him and relax and won’t tie Victor down. Maybe. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

“It’s just a dream, anyway,” Yuuri says pensively. “My family would never let me leave.”

Victor frowns. “You’re what, twenty-four? Why wouldn’t they let you leave?” The words are out of his mouth before he pieces together Yuuri’s phrasing, the bruises on his back, and the hollows in his cheeks that would look much better rounded out. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, when Yuuri stays silent, eyes averted.

Yuuri shrugs, lifting one foot out of the water and inspecting it for cleanliness, spreading his toes. “S’fine.”

“S’not, Yuuri. No one deserves abuse.”

“I know,” Yuuri replies very, very quietly. “It’s just that I do everything for them. I don’t know how they would survive without me.”

 _Maybe they_ **_shouldn’t_ ** _survive without you, kotenok._ Victor lets Yuuri settle, lets the silence fall. When he speaks again, he keeps his voice deliberately gentle. “You could come live at the palace.”

Yuuri looks back at him sharply. “What? No, I couldn’t-” he sputters. “Why- why would you do that?”

“I’m the prince, right? And one day I’m going to be the king. So I’m responsible for all of my subjects.”

“I don’t- I mean. What would I do?”

There are a million jobs Yuuri could probably take on, if he’s been acting as essentially his stepfather’s slave. But what comes out of Victor’s lips is: “Well, you see, I need a husband.”

He’s not sure if he’s ever seen a look of surprise as exaggerated as what passes over Yuuri’s face, so he just moves on.

“I could provide for you. Clothing, a good place to sleep, whatever you need. In return, I ask for a companion for balls, and diplomatic trips, and to fulfill the damned charter requirement that I be married before I become king.”

Yuuri is still sputtering, so Victor lets him sit with his thoughts for a bit.

“I- I am so _unsuitable,_ your highness-”

“Victor, please.”

“Um. Victor.” Yuuri bows his head, cheeks flaming. “There are a million other men you could have.”

Victor shrugs. “But you are here, which is not to say you are convenient. But you’re here, and you’re in a bad situation that I could help with, and we seem to get along just fine.”

“We’ve only known each other for a day - been talking for less than that!”

“My father expects me to meet someone at a ball and get engaged to them all in one evening. At least this way I have a little more choice.”

“Less choice, Vitya! Less! You only have me to choose from!”

Victor’s heart stutters at the endearment. “Yes, but _I_ chose you, not my father. Oh- but. If you aren’t gay, or you were looking to marry for love, of course, I’m sorry-”

Yuuri turns inexplicably more red. “No, um, I mean, yes, I’m gay. I, um- I wasn’t expecting to ever marry for love, either.”

“Even if you don’t want to marry me, I can still find some place for you at the palace. You don’t have to go home to them, ever again, Yuuri, not if you don’t want to. I will use all of the power of my throne, my name, to make it so.”

“Victor, that’s- I mean.” He goes silent for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them again, he looks determined, eyes meeting Victor’s. “Y-yes. Okay. I’ll marry you.”

 

If Yuuri hadn’t been able to feel the aches of his stepfather’s last beating, he would have thought he had dreamt Prince Victor - and his marriage proposal - right up.

But his dreams had never been this vivid. He’d never been able to _feel_ as he could now: feel his highness - Victor - Vitya’s,  _oh my god, Yuuri, I can't believe you called him Vitya out loud like you do in your fantasies_ \- warm body beneath his fingers as he clings to him, as they ride toward the palace. Victor’s horse is lovely, pure black except for a star on his forehead, and the great brown poodle Makkachin races beside them.

Yuuri is both anxious and curious, and both make his fingers squeeze tightly at Victor’s middle. Victor tosses a look over his shoulder, smiling brightly at him, and urges Midnight on.

The palace is no less overwhelming than Victor himself, especially when they are ushered in without the guards even glancing once at Yuuri or telling him he doesn’t belong there.

Victor doesn’t hand Midnight off to an attendant, apparently preferring to rub down the horse himself, so Yuuri keeps him company, sitting against the wall of the horse stall and running his fingers through Makkachin’s fur.

“He likes you, and I like to think he’s a good judge of character. He _hated_ JJ.”  Victor smiles down at him as he continues brushing.

Yuuri remembers JJ, a prince from the next country over, and how he had come courting Victor when he was younger. JJ had not engendered much love among the people, seeming too stuck up and full of himself. Then again, the people of this country have built Victor up into a myth, almost, calling him their Ice Prince and believing no one will ever be good enough for him.

So how the hell is Yuuri supposed to live up to that expectation?

“There will be an engagement ball at the summer festival, Yuuri. I’ll arrange everything - we’ll need to get you some clothes, and we’ll visit my hairstylist. Maybe a crash course on etiquette with Yuri and Mila.” Yuuri recognizes the names of Victor’s greatest advisors. “Oh, I suppose we need a way to distinguish you and Yuri. Hmm. I’ll think about that.”

“O-okay,” Yuuri says hesitantly. “Your High- Victor, what if everyone hates me? What if _you_ hate me?”

Victor looks down at him with a small smile. “They won’t hate you, _kotenok,_ because I don’t hate you, and I’ll show them that. That you deserve this as much as I do.”

Yuuri’s brows furrow at the pet name, again. _Kotenok._ Kitten. It doesn’t exactly sound like Victor thinks of him very highly.

More like he wants someone convenient so that he doesn’t have another person butting into his business being king. Which, not that Yuuri wants to be an equal king or anything, but it does seem to go against the spirit of the Royal Compact with the people. The marriage requirement is there for a reason, and it doesn’t sit right with Yuuri that Victor wants to blithely ignore it.

So...maybe it’s his _duty_ to make sure Victor not only doesn’t hate him, but falls in love with him. His duty to this country.

The fact that Yuuri has had a crush on -  _been in love with,_ his mind corrects - Victor since the very first royal parade he remembers, when he saw the Ice Prince on his horse and his papa, his real papa, lifted him up to see and he and Victor seemed to lock eyes and Yuuri just _knew,_ well, that has nothing to do with it.

It’s just a duty.

 

Still, having determined his duty, Yuuri has a hard time with all of the fuss everyone makes over him. Mila is welcoming, if sly, Yuri (or Yurio, as Victor decides to call him, much to his fury) treats him a bit like he’s trash, which Victor shuts down immediately. The servant women sent to help him wash and cut his hair and work on his clothing all soften toward him when they see the marks.

The thought that Yuuri never has to see his stepfather again if he doesn’t want to washes over him like a soothing balm, and he surprises himself into tears as he sits in the tub, someone else washing his hair.

This makes the attendants baby him even more, and he lets it happen. He can be strong later. He gets to rest now.

When he’s done and wrapped in the fluffiest towel imaginable, the head attendant apologetically brings him to the clothes that have been found for him. “I’m so sorry, sir, but they’re all we could find for now.”

It’s a veritable _buffet_ of clothing. The rack is full to the brim with more colors and textures than Yuuri has ever seen. He runs his fingers over them, and then he recognizes a certain pattern, gasping and pulling a suit out with reverence.

“Do you like it?” Victor’s voice floats over his shoulder and he whirls in his towel, cheeks immediately flagging red.

“Victor! Um.” Yuuri sets the suit back, then nervously tugs at his towel and attempts a respectful bow.

Victor’s fingers are light on his chin as he tips Yuuri’s head back up. “You bow to no one but the king here, _kotenok._ Do you like the suit? You can wear it if you like.”

“Victor! This was the suit you wore for the annual coronation ball five years ago! I couldn’t!”

“I know it’s been worn before, but the royal seamstress cannot be summoned until at least tomorrow, at the earliest.”

“No, I mean- _Victor.”_ He can’t figure out how to explain exactly how unworthy he feels to even _touch_ the suit.

“Try it on. For me?” Victor grins and wiggles his eyebrows.

On the verge of hyperventilation, Yuuri finds himself being pushed behind the dressing curtain, and then a handful of attendants are helping him put the suit on, and he’s flabbergasted at how well it fits and how good it feels.

“It looks lovely on you, Yuuri,” Victor murmurs when he steps out. “Will you join me for dinner?”

Yuuri is shell shocked, but Victor’s question brings him back into action as he remembers his self-appointed duty. “Yes,” he replies, having found his voice again. He even offers Victor his arm, and is pleased when Victor smiles and takes it.

 

Yuuri seems to be holding up rather well, Victor thinks, a few days later. He learns the etiquette easily enough, and gets along with everyone - well, almost everyone. Yurio is, as expected, infuriated.

He’s even helping Mila with the planning for the engagement ball, making himself useful here and there, like Victor is sure is ingrained in him. Which is why Victor has dismissed his advisors for the afternoon, seeking out Yuuri for some relaxation instead. It’s a handy excuse for himself, yes, but he truly wants to make sure Yuuri is resting and settling into his new home.

He finds Yuuri furiously pouring over the plans for the ball, talking excitedly with Mila. Victor smiles sunnily at them as he walks up, watching his fiance speak with his hands about flower arrangements. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Vitya!” Yuuri’s smile is like sunshine, without a trace of the anxiety that Victor sometimes sees in his eyes. “Has Mila told you about the flowers?”

“She hasn’t, _kotenok._ Probably saving that privilege for you. Tell me.”

Yuuri does, with gestures, and words that don’t sound apologetic leaving his lips. When he finally winds down, he looks at Victor with such an obvious need for approval that Victor can do nothing but comply. “It’s going to be beautiful, Yuuri. Worthy of my handsome fiance.”

Yuuri blushes, running his hand through his hair with an embarrassed _“Vitya.”_

“I was wondering if you’d perhaps like to go to the fencing grounds with me?”

Yuuri looks down at the plans, and then up at Victor, conflict running over his face. When Victor is about to tell him he doesn’t have to come, of course, though, Yuuri gets that determined look on his face again and nods. “Yes, I’d like that very much, though I’m sure you’ll best me easily.”

They walk side-by-side, and Yuuri shyly reaches for Victor’s hand. Surprised, Victor gives it to him, deciding that it’s best to keep up appearances for the kingdom. When they must break apart to dress down for fencing, Victor finds himself longing to entangle his fingers with Yuuri’s again.

On the sparring floor, it’s easy to see that Yuuri is untrained, but has great potential. Victor pushes him, because every time he does, Yuuri rises to the challenge. Blood pumps through Victor's veins, making him feel strong and light at the same time. He loves watching Yuuri parry and dodge, and when he finally manages to land a point on Victor, he whips off his mask and lets out a whoop, eyes bright, that makes Victor beam.

And then, immediately, Yuuri’s face falls, and he’s demure again, shy and not meeting Victor’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Victor.”

“What? For what?”

Yuuri refuses to say more, though, just pressing his lips together, giving Victor a side-eye like he thinks Victor might be about to punish him. The realization makes Victor sick to his stomach, and he covers it by handing off their equipment to be cared for, and taking Yuuri’s hand in his. They stroll the hallways of the palace, nodding at guards and attendants as they pass in their fencing gear. It’s not unusual for Victor to go wandering about the palace after he’s practiced, after all. Physical activity clears his mind and helps him come up with solutions to his problems.

He finally coaxes Yuuri back into a better mood, and when he has at last gotten a small, shy smile again from Yuuri, he drops Yuuri off at his chambers with a light kiss on his hand and a promise to see him at dinner.

 

Victor is unlike any man Yuuri has ever known. He barely remembers his father, and his stepfather crowds all memory of him out, anyway.

He seems to...not prefer Yuuri act the way his stepfather would prefer a wife, all demure and silent and helpful.

Victor exalts when Yuuri is outspoken. His eyes light up when Yuuri talks passionately about flowers. He doesn’t react in anger when Yuuri bests him, even so minutely, in fencing. And he is soft, sweet, and not in the way Yuuri’s stepfather had been in the beginning, and how he could be after hitting his mother or Yuuri.

Yuuri smiles as he prepares for another night. It’s a challenge, loving Victor, and tempting him to love Yuuri in return. The type of challenge Yuuri excels at.

He wanders out to the balcony in his sleeping clothes, looking up at the night sky. When he hears a small whistle, he looks around, his eyes finally settling on Victor, one balcony over. His heart flutters in his chest, and he smiles. “Hello, Vitya,” he calls softly.

“Hello, _kotenok.”_

Yuuri wrinkles his nose.

“What have I said?”

Eerie, how good Victor is at reading his face. Something Yuuri would do well to remember.

“You always call me that. ‘Kitten.’ Like it’s a good thing. I’m not a cute, defenseless kitten, Victor.”

Yuuri knows he sounds obstinate, but he also knows by now that Victor prefers a partner who isn’t afraid to share his opinion.

“What? _Koten-_ Yuuri. I’m coming over there.”

“What?” Yuuri watches in astonishment as the _Crown Prince of his country_ steps out onto the small ledge between balconies and starts to shimmy across the side of the palace.

 _“Vitya,”_ he whispers urgently, afraid of shocking Victor into falling.

“Don’t worry, Yuuri, I’ve done this a hundred times before. Once while drunk. I would not recommend that, though.”

Yuuri’s hands twist together. “Victor, be careful!” For the seconds that Victor is out on the ledge, Yuuri feels like he can’t breathe, like his world is going dark. His heart beats crazily in his chest and he closes his eyes, unable to watch if the love of his life should fall to his death.

“Shhh, shhh, _kotenok,_ I’m here, I made, I’m sorry, I won’t scare you like that again, I promise.”

Victor’s arms are warm around him, and Yuuri realizes he’s shaking. He takes a few moments to recover, and then pushes Victor lightly. “How dare you! Never again!”

“I’m so sorry, Yuuri, please forgive me?” And Victor sounds genuinely contrite, and his arms are perfect, and Yuuri just tips up his face and-

Crossing the distance to Victor’s lips takes both an eternity and no time at all, and then they’re kissing, and it’s like his mother’s pork katsudon, just perfectly warm and comforting after whatever horrors the day had wrought.

Yuuri tugs at the collar of Victor’s sleep clothes and rests their foreheads together. “You’re not allowed to take such chances, my prince.”

“Yuuri-”

“Because if I lost you, I- I- I would be lost, too.”

 _“Yuuri.”_ Victor cups Yuuri’s face, eyes soft. “I need- I need to be sure- You owe me nothing, Katsuki Yuuri. You owe the world nothing, and deserve everything. I need you to be really sure you’re not just...trying to pay me back or something.”

Yuuri laughs, feeling lighter than he ever has before. He sweeps back some of Victor’s silver locks, and brushes their lips together again. “I’m sure, Vitya. I’m sure.”

 _“Kotenok.”_ Victor makes to kiss him again, but Yuuri stops him with a finger on his lips.

“That word again,” he murmurs with a mock frown.

“Oh, right! I came over to tell you, Yuuri. _Kotenok.”_ He cups Yuuri’s face again. “I’m trying to give you a compliment. Have you ever met a kitten? They’re not weak and defenseless and cute.” He picks up one of Yuuri’s hands. “They have the sharpest claws, and they use them for everything. And they have the fiercest hearts, they’re all lions, the lot of them. And yes, they’re cute.” He kisses Yuuri’s nose. “You’re my _kotenok.”_

Yuuri places a hand over Victor’s heart. “And you want this? You want a partner? I thought you- well. I was convenient, you said.”

“I’m a stupid man who says stupid things sometimes,” Victor says, and Yuuri laughs. “I do want a partner. I want a Yuuri-partner and no one else, though.”

He pulls Victor into his arms again, hugging him tightly as the stars twinkle above. “I want a Victor-partner, and no one else.”

Wrapped in each other, they fall into another kiss, and another, soft, light, and sweet. Tomorrow brings the ball, and the announcement of their engagement, and presenting Yuuri to society. Now, they’ll face it together.

Hands linked, they walk back into Yuuri’s bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you like this, please check out my other stuff! :) Comments and Kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Also feel free to join me in AU august. You are welcome to any of the prompts I use - would love if you leave a comment letting me know you wrote it so I can check it out!
> 
> Happy August!


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